Saturday, August 7
If I were to be a homeless hippie, I'd be a homeless hippie in Hawaii. I'd go everywhere fungusfoot and grow my hair as long as Cher's but stink like Nikki Sixx after that not showering dare with Tommy Lee but 10 times as long. I'd sleep on the beach and not even have to beg for food - there are fruit trees all around. Plus, you don't need to wear much clothes either.

The people there are so fucking nice. Not to mention all the hot sexalicious men that I'd have to tap every single one of them. Hawaiians are awesome I'm sad they didn't really invent Hawaiian Punch and that little dreaded hair dude on a surfboard. I mean, every goddamn person was friendly and didn't step over you every time you tripped on your feet for no apparent reason.

There was an exception though. All I have to say is: Thousands, thousands, thousands, of Japanese people. (Brittany, Hawaii is your paradise.) What bothered me was that they are some of the most arrogant, conceited, selfish, unfriendly people I have ever met. And just those Japanese tourists alone make up more than half of the island of Oahu's population. I saw more pale-as-ass Japanese than I did toasted-as-crusty-rye-bread Hawaiians in the entire vacation alone. They think they're going to get Hawaii even after surrendering like Barbie Doll pussies in Pearl Harbor? Yeah right, Michael Bolton groupies have a bigger chance in doing so.

A bird shit on my dad. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen since looking at a picture of Mickey Rooney.

I'll get to more details when I feel like it. But now I feel like boring you some more than I already would have.

We went shopping, and there was this store called Green Dreams. More like Goldmine Heaven of Heaven Dreams. There were aisles and aisles and aisles and racks and racks and racks of rare music t shirts. Quality music t shirts. You should've seen my eyes, they twinkled like the stars. (wow, that was so emo-y corny.) Ok, they twinkled more like a hobo's eyes when he's just seen a picture of a Big Mac on the window at MacDonald's, thinking it's God and that it's edible. It was shopping paradise. I even sweat while looking through the many aisles of fashion gold and diamonds. There was a Kurt Cobain shirt with him showing you the magic finger and saying FUCK YOU. I wish I could've gotten it for Shaina, in exchange for that Zeppelin shirt goddammit!

I saw a Jimmy Page shirt. I Jimmy Page shirt. A JIMMY PAGE SHIRT. But it was size XL and black and my mom would not have paid for it.

Yeah I am indeed as tan as let's say......Cheech and Chong? Yeah, that tan. Tan is bad. It hurts and I'm starting to peel. If the wind blew, all my skin flakes would look like volcanic ash blowing everywhere in your fucking faces with winds going 50 mph.


Christina N. @ 9:27 PM